Four Letter Words
by hctiB-notsoB
Summary: Pre-slash Gus/Shawn "Fate, Lost, Loud, and Pact. Four stages of their relationship through Gus' eyes."


Fate: (feyt) _noun_; the universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed.

"_Burton_." He groaned inwardly and attempted to ignore the vioces, even as his cheeks darkened in embarrassment and anger. His mom always said the best way to make a bully leave you alone was to ignore them. "Booger Burton." That didn't seem to work with Johnny Michaels.

They seemed to take particular enjoyment in making fun of his first name, Johnny Michaels and the goons that followed him. The bigger boys whispered his name mockingly as they walked by, not wanting to draw the attention of a teacher. Even though the insults were whispered, Burton felt like the entire cafeteria was looking at him.

Johnny snickered as he looked back at him and Burton quickly avoided his gaze. But his eyes left the tray in front of him the moment he heard a crash and the other children laughing. He expected Johnny to have done something else, for the kids to be laughing at him because they'd heard what Johnny said. Burton wasn't expecting to see Johnny laying on the cafeteria floor, face covered in food from his tray. The moment Johnny sat up, he burst into tears and the teachers rushed over.

Burton watched as the kid sitting on the bench right next to Johnny grabbed his bag lunch and walked over to his table. "Hi Gus!"

He looked around, but saw no one else near him, thus assumed the weird kid with messy brown hair was talking to him. "Gus?"

"Yeah. Guster's your last name right? Really, Gus sounds way cooler than Burton, no offense or nothin'. And if people get used to calling you Gus, then Johnny won't make fun of your first name anymore. I mean, Johnny's a butt, so he might still make fun of Gus, but Gus still sounds cooler than Burton so... Hi Gus!"

The-weird-one, as Burton had temporarily named him, looked at him with big, green eyes as he rambled. It reminded him of his cousin's puppy. The one that would chase its own tail until it fell down, dizzy. Or chew on his toys, then look up at him with big, brown (green) eyes until he would finally pat it on the head and say it's okay.

"...Hi?" He (it?) grinned widely and took a bite out of the yellow fruit that was in the paper bag.

Later that day, _Gus_ learned the-weird-one had to go the rest of the week without snack time, because one of the other kids had snitched and told a teacher how he'd tripped Johnny Michaels.

* * *

Lost: (lawst) _adjective_; having gone astray or missed the way.

"Guster residence." His mother was a such stickler for manners. "Oh, hello Mr. Spencer." Gus looked up in surprise from his seat at the kitchen table, where he was creating his latest artistic masterpiece. "No, he hasn't been over since yesterday." Gus cocked his head curiously. "One moment, I'll ask him." His mother looked at him, slightly worried. "Burton, have you seen Shawn since yesterday after school?"

There was a guilty look on Mr. Spencer's face when Gus went to Shawn's house the next day and asked for his friend. The man kneeled down to look Gus in the eye. He tried to explain softly, with his rough voice, that they didn't know where Shawn was.

"Is it 'cause you're playing hide 'n seek? 'Cause I know all of Shawn's good hiding spots, I can find him for you."

He saw how Shawn's dad's jaw tightened and how the man had to take a few deep breaths through his nose. "No Gus, we're not playing. Shawn's missing."

Gus still thought that Shawn was playing hide and seek, and that was why Mr. Spencer couldn't find his friend. Shawn's dad never played games with them, so he obviously didn't know where Shawn liked to hide. Grown-ups could be really dumb, according to Shawn. Thus, Gus couldn't trust _them_ to find his friend. No, he had to do it himself.

He checked all of Shawn's usual hiding spots around the neighborhood, but to no avail. Shawn really didn't want to be found, apparently. The seven-year-old was almost ready to give up and let the grown-ups find his friend. But there was one place left.

Gus walked through the woods for a few minutes before he finally came to a cave with an old 'Keep Out' sign by the entrance. Naturally, it was Shawn's favorite hiding spot when they played cops and robbers (though, they'd never tell Mr. Spencer that his son was running from the law). He looked into the dark opening of the cave and shifted nervously.

"Shawn?" He'd never gone into the cave before, convinced that there were lions, or tigers, or bears. Shawn always said he should've never watched the Wizard of Oz. Tentatively, Gus inched his way into the dark space. Once his eyes adjusted, he walked farther in, scanning for any sign of his friend...or a malicious animal. Just a few feet in, Gus tripped over something that ended up feeling very fleshy. "Shawn!"

Shawn didn't say anything back, and he was sure that was a bad sign. That, and that there was really big rock on his friend's leg. Gus ran as fast as his own legs could carry him, through the trees, past where dirt and grass met sand, and to the nearest adult. Ten minutes later, he was leading a group to Shawn's favorite hiding spot.

While Mr. Spencer hugged his son tight, Gus fought the urge to say 'I told you so.'

His mom gave him a funny look that evening, when he asked her if they could put pineapple chunks in Shawn's chicken soup. But that was okay, because Shawn had woken up and laughed. Laughed because Gus told Shawn that he didn't find any lions in the cave. Or tigers, or bears.

* * *

Loud: (lowd) _adjective_; having exceptional volume or intensity.

There was not a single person on this earth that would be able to ignore Shawn's presence. And if you attempted to, then you were signing the death warrent for you sanity. Gus learned that a _long_ time ago.

When they were little, Shawn was the loudest in the school plays, even if he got his lines wrong and improvised. When he sang, he did so off-key and loud enough to overpower the actual song playing on the radio or record. When he spoke, his hands were usually louder than his voice, often making whatever he was saying stand out in your mind, no matter how pointless it was. Gus always thought it was just how Shawn was; he needed all the attention he could get.

It was just another Friday night, just another sleep-over, when Gus learned why Shawn was so loud. They were watching the Lost Boys for the fifth or sixth time when the screaming started. Low at first, where you couldn't really hear _it_ over the TV. Then, gradually it grew louder, until they couldn't hear the _TV_ over it.

Gus caught something in Shawn's face, before his friend groaned and rolled his eyes. "Come on," Shawn turned off his TV, then opened up his window.

He followed the other teen out the window and away from the loud house. As they walked down the road, it seemed like Shawn knew exactly where they were going. They ended up at a 7-11 across from the beach, where they bought two jumbo slushies, then found a spot on the pier.

Gus thought about the screaming, and wondered why his friend had never told him about it before. He thought of how Shawn would scream and jump when he got angry, or excited, or had something to say. And he thought that, maybe, Shawn thought he needed to be loud, because he didn't think anyone would hear him through all the screaming.

Shawn slurped his pineapple and cola loudly, before he got that light in his eyes that meant there was something in his head that needed out. "Dude! Jessica, from second hour. I swear she wasn't wearing panties today!"

Gus thought it would be better if he'd just let Shawn talk for now.

* * *

Pact: (pakt) _noun_; an agreement, covenant, or compact.

It was well past two, Wednesday 'morning.' For that reason, Gus _really_ should be asleep. After all, he was a college student now, he had to be responsible and serious. He had Chemistry class in just a few hours actually, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to stay awake during his professor's lecture. But, as shocked as he was to admit it to himself, that really didn't bother him. Not at the moment at least, because there were more important things to do.

Like following Shawn around the gas station as his friend stocked up on snack foods. "Are you serious?!"

"As a pineapple shortage in Hawaii." Shawn grabbed a party-size bag of Frito's, nourishment be damned.

Gus blinked. "Tonight?! Just like that, you're going to up and leave?"

"I left a note." Gus let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. It portrayed his frustration quite well, if he did say so himself. "Look, I'm a grown man now. Time to leave the nest."

"You turned eighteen three weeks ago!" Gus said incredulously. He was having a hard time wrapping his brain around the situtaiton.

"He arrested me Gus!" Shawn finally snapped.

His eyes were going to fall out any second now, he just knew it. "What?"

Shawn threw the twinkie back on the shelf. "I borrowed his truck yesterday, because Susan's scared of bikes. He arrested me for vehicle theft and made me stay in a cell. I got out this morning, spent the day getting any extra cash I could, and now I'm leaving."

Gus didn't say anything as Shawn grabbed a box of ding-dongs, or as he paid for his heart-stopping banquet at the counter. He didn't say anything as Shawn loaded up his backpack and checked the carrying bags on his bike to make sure he had all he needed. Didn't say a word as Shawn straddled what Henry had dubbed the 'screaming metal deathtrap.' But he grabbed the handlebars before Shawn could start the motorcycle.

"Where are you going?"

Shawn shrugged and grinned from under his helmet. "Haven't got a clue. I'll know when I get there."

Gus rolled his eyes. "You're calling me when you get there."

"Yes mom."

"Call me if you need money."

Shawn's turn to roll his eyes. "You know I will."

"Call me if- _when_ you get into trouble."

"I'll rack up your phone bill."

Gus hesitated before he let go of the bike. "You're coming back right?"

Shawn's grin got a little wider. "Promise."


End file.
